Help needed by a Socially Handicapped Extrovert

How can I be a naturally social person, an extrovert, but suffer from so much anxiety in social situations? I can honestly talk to almost anyone that crosses my path, but the problem is that it used to come to me naturally without any thought. Now I think about how the proper thing is to greet and converse with those around me; and, then, I force myself to say 'Hi' or start light conversation. It isn't easy; and to myself, it doesn't seem to have any flow to it. It makes me very sick, but I, often, cannot bring myself to ease with new people, old friends, family, or whoever is the person(s) of the hour is.

The tough thing is I was not brought up to be a wall flower, so I find ways to be social. These fixes tend to be more destructive in the end, rather than helpful. Destructive is a better description of the long term effects; the short term is better described by embarassing. If you read my post about addiction, you probably guessed my fix is alcohol. A shot or a starter drink will usually loosen me up enough to lift the edginess so I talk with less internal worry and pain. The problem is I start feeling better and think one more won't hurt. The second drink starts to numb the shakiness, the guilt associated with not knowing what to say, and the worry that the other person may be taking offense to my lack of conversation. The third drink usually breaks the shell enough that I can be comfortable in most situations, but three often translates into four, five, six, etc.

I remember there was a day when alcohol was not a factor at all, although many thought I was drunk as a skunk. I was, in reality, completely sober, running on adreneline. Oh, how I want those days back. I am so sick of being the drunk people make fun of, or the person that puked her guts out because she doesn't know when to stop drinking.

I am a bit of a free spirit, which is another part of my life which severely clashes with this whole PTSD life, at times. I like to push the line, but with alcohol involved the line becomes more extreme and I cross it anyways. This usually ends up with me waking up the next day totally mortified or ashamed of my behavior*** the night before and often depressed. I like to have fun, but there are limits to having fun if you still want to stay classy (and not just another bar tramp). Right now, I'm the drunk who is trying to walk the straight line of the limits, occassionally stumbling across the line only to quickly correct myself and get back on track.

I am going to work on making some new changes over the next couple of weeks, including drinking a lot less maybe not even at all. We will see. One step at a time. (I like to skip steps, but being I'm a clutz and would fall flat on my face, I'll try to keep things simple and focus on one thing at a time for awhile.)

*** Please don't take this wrong, I'm not sleeping around, at all. No matter how drunk I get, I've never been the type of girl to meet a guy and bed him, ever.